


On Film

by KendylGirl



Series: The Alchemy of Butterflies [16]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Family Dynamics, M/M, POV Male Character, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 19:10:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20314561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KendylGirl/pseuds/KendylGirl
Summary: The boys decide to get some family photos.





	On Film

**Author's Note:**

> I figured we could use some genuine smiles... 😉 Should real life leave you with a bit of a sour taste, the sweetness of our fiction can be the best solution.
> 
> I'm calling in one of my markers to add to this series; this popped into my brain, and I couldn't let it go.
> 
> My thanks once again to the careful eyes and sage advice of Willowbrooke!

“You know what, grab his leg.It keeps slipping down.”

A huff.“Well, how am I supposed to—“

“I don’t _know_…maybe cross his ankles on your knee.”

“Like—“

A wail.

“Never mind.”

They both glance at me apologetically, so I wave a hand.“No worries, guys.You’re the last appointment of the day, so no rush.”

They’ve been really nice since they arrived, so I’d cut them a break regardless.Most of the famous people I meet are assholes who seem to think time waits for them, like no other lives exist beyond their faces and my lens.These two, though.They actually arrived early, each shaking my hand and imploring me to call them by their first names, begging me for forgiveness in advance.

“Harper here says she’s not feeling so good today.”I had looked down at the little girl, maybe six or seven.She’d frowned at me, crossed her arms firmly across her chest.Her blonde dad—sorry, _Armie_—had rubbed her shoulder, and she’d pressed against his leg, half hiding her face.The glare remained.“She’s not too fond of pictures.”He’d winced at me.

I’ll bet.She’s probably had a camera or a smartphone shoved in her face every day since she was born.All hail Insta.Even the devil needs an app.

“Me, either,” I’d shrugged at her before shoving a clumsy index finger into one of my nostrils.“I like to pick my nose too much.”

It worked.I saw her eyes crinkle, heard her giggle into the back of her dad’s knee.

The other dad had laughed, too._Tim well Timothée but no I mean just Tim is fine yeah Tim please._He’d had the small boy on his shoulders, chubby toddler hands in a death grip on his ears and wavy hair, but the guy hadn’t seemed to mind.Must be used to it.

“So Nicole didn’t say—is this for _EW_ or…?”

Armie had held up an apologetic hand.“Oh, no, sorry, sorry.This is…this is just for us.”He had glanced over at his husband, who’d stepped forward.

“Yeah, we just…she said you were a good guy.We just wanted some really nice family shots, that’s all.”He had detached the little boy’s hands from where they’d smeared onto his face to partially cover his eyes, kissed each palm and held onto them under his chin.“Is that…is that all right?”

I had smiled at his hesitance.“Yeah, of course, absolutely.The purpose affects style, that’s all, so I want to be sure to give you what you want.”

Both had looked relieved.Did they think I would turn them away or something?Then again, who knows what shit they’ve had to put up with.When stars are on the rise as theirs are, Hollywood is kinder, but that town is like the ocean—you don’t want to turn your back on it for a second.

They had said that they wanted something natural and simple, which made sense given how they were dressed, like they’d all gone out for bagels on a Saturday morning, not to a photography studio.I’d set up a couple of distressed wood crates against a soft grey background.They really didn’t need much more than that to create a stunning image; each one of them had the gift of natural beauty, so their faces are all that’s required.I had situated them with minimal directions.These men were obviously no strangers to a photo shoot, and they had moved around the small set with ease.It was clear they knew what to do.

The children had proved a bigger challenge, though.

Tim had taken his place on the upended box, moving the little boy up onto one leg, rubbing his tummy with soft fingers as the kid chewed absently on the hem of his own sweater, watching with fascination as his other dad sat below them on the second box and eased their daughter into the space between the edge of the wood and the large right angle of his leg.She had grabbed his big hand and held it tight, each of her hands wrapping around a single finger.

I had changed lenses, repositioned my equipment and my angle, but by the time I had been ready to shoot, the kids had gotten fidgety.

At the boy’s wail, I give them a small nod and step back, move over to my desk and take a drink from my Coke.It’s warm, but what the hell, I need the caffeine.And these guys need a minute to themselves.

“What’s wrong, Fordie?What’s up with my buddy?”Tim presses his knees together and eases the child around so his legs are propped up securely on them.“That better?”

The kid whimpers quietly, face cinched up like he could blow at any minute.

Tim gives him a peck on his cheek and asks playfully, “How about now?”Another to the other cheek.“Now?”He darts back and forth to each cheek like a chicken pecking its feed until Ford relents, shakes his little head back and forth and giggles.

Ford points to Armie.

“What?”

Tim looks up at his husband’s face, eyes lit with mischief.Armie’s features snap to exaggerated surprise, his mouth falling open in a wide circle.He points a shocked finger at his own chest, like the little boy has just accused him of a crime.

Tim curls his spine down so his lips are next to the boy’s ear.“Want me to get him?”

Ford claps his hands.“Daddy!”

“Yeah?Him, too?”

“Daddy, too!” he bubbles.

Tim leans over and plants a loud smacker on Armie’s cheek while the latter widens his eyes at his son and gasps.

The little boy shrieks with delight.“More, more!”

Armie accommodates, leaning over so Timmy can kiss the opposite cheek as well, volleying back and forth a couple of times as he had with the child’s until they’re all laughing, me included.Then, I see something change as Tim sit back a little, hangs in front of Armie’s face, and their eyes meet.There’s a sudden storm there, a tenderness that stirs deep in each man, and I can’t say I even would have noticed if I hadn’t spent my career chasing after it, trying to capture that exact image on film, that amazing depth and intensity, a concrete embodiment that testifies to the reality and existence of an abstraction as wondrous as true love.It overtakes their features entirely, though their muscles scarcely flicker.And it’s fleeting, only emerging for a few seconds before it is quickly overtaken by a darker emotion when the gaze drops from eyes to mouths, a lick of lips, an intake of breath.

Then the eyes connect again.

Smiles.

_Can’t help myself._

_ Just you wait_.

I turn away, shuffle some papers on my desk, suddenly feeling as if I’ve accidentally opened someone else’s mail.Those messages between them aren’t meant for me, their syntax foreign to my brain.No one has ever looked at me like that.Not sure anyone ever will.

Behind me, I hear the girl’s voice, “Daddy, can I get a milkshake?I’m hungry.Can we go now?”Taps stutter as she jumps up and down, sneakers pattering on the wood floor.

“Not yet, Hoppers.”

Her protest is cut off by the loud whisper of her other dad.“Psst!Hey, Hops—J'ai faim aussi!"

She giggles and makes a little squeal.“See, Daddy, see?Papa, too!Let’s go, let’s go _now_!”

“Soon, baby.Still need a few pictures, though, right?”

That sounds like my cue.

I amble over and adjust my set up a little.The little boy is serene, gnawing contemplatively on Tim’s index finger.Armie is settling the little girl's hair, brushing it aside from her face, flattening it on either side of her part.“Everyone good to go?”

He glances up at me.“Yeah, I’m really sorry about this, man.Almost there.”

“It’s fine, really.”I catch the girl’s eye and nod toward her dad.“Is he a good hairdresser?”

“No.”She claps her hand over her toothy smile.

His blue eyes roll.“Lies, all lies.”He tilts his head to point toward his husband.“I did Timmy’s hair today.”

Tim’s nose wrinkles, and their daughter shouts, “No, you didn’t!”

“Swear to God.”His deadpan game is strong.

I point to my camera.“Well, you know, the industry standard is that you haven’t done _anything_ until you’ve done it on film.” 

Tim bites his lip, snorts, “_On film_,” sotto voce, and elbows Armie hard, causing him to turn several interesting shades of red, which only makes Tim laugh harder and shrink down until he is resting his forehead on Ford’s back.His face is hidden, but his shoulders continue to shake as muffled giggles spill out into his lap.

I look between them.I don’t get the joke.

“You are the worst,” Armie huffs.He busies himself flattening the straps on Harper’s denim overalls, though they hadn’t really been out of place, finally glancing over at Tim.I’m guessing he’s trying to cultivate some kind of a death stare, but he can’t seem to keep himself from chuckling.“Are you done yet?”

His throat clears and Tim straightens up again.“Yep.”His mouth ripples, fluctuates between an irrepressible smile and a determined severity.“Yep, I’m good.”He tries holding his breath.The smile still wins.Trails of quiet snickers follow.

A sidelong look.“You know you’re going to pay for that, don’t you?”

“Promises, promises.”

The little girl now rests an elbow and juts a hip against Armie’s leg, shoves a hand into her opposite pocket, and stares at the camera with an eager determination set full on her face, as if she can flick the shutter from pure will alone and get herself that much closer to ice cream nirvana.Ford babbles happily, mollified with the finger he’s appropriated, twisting to watch open-mouthed the tit-for-tat that unfolds between the two dads like he’s center court at Wimbledon.As for the men, the exchange has left them relaxed and vibrant and in the moment, angled toward each other, wearing their intimacy like a buttery second skin.

_This_.

This is the perfect shot of their family.I can’t explain it, but this is the one that I am certain portrays them in their truest and most natural state, one they could look to years later and feel that same warm presence, that protection offered by their bond, their individual personalities evident, the easy love among them.I lean over quickly and snap a few pictures in rapid succession

Over the next half hour or so, we do lots of poses, shuffling them around like cards, lots of playful ideas, including one from above where their bodies were laid out, spokes on a wheel, as if they were gazing up at the night sky.They were game for about anything, and so was I.What can I say—I get why audiences go nuts for these guys.I began to feel oddly honored that of all the options they clearly have available to them, it was my studio they came to.I make a mental note to send an embarrassing amount of white roses to Nicole.

When we’re done, I take Armie and Tim over to my computer so I can let them select their favorites.I start to click through them, and in the corner of my eye, I see Tim slide behind his husband slightly, lay his cheek on his shoulder, as if he is shielding himself or holding himself up with the other’s solid frame.Maybe he hates to see himself in pictures; a lot of people are like that, and it has nothing to do with how attractive they are.Maybe he’s overwhelmed, emotions that tend to bubble up when someone sees his world from the outside for the first time.Those are the times that make my profession feel worthwhile, when it’s something deeper than vanity that drives it. 

Both men are quiet.Too quiet?I glance up at Armie’s profile.It is fixed, cryptic—lips soft but jaw clenched._Shit_.Am I wrong?Maybe I’ve misread all of this. 

I finish scrolling through the stills, ending on that initial image.“I think this one is…I guess it’s my favorite.”Neither responds.I lean back in my chair.I wait, cross my ankle over my knee, wait longer._More direct, then_.“Well?What’s the verdict?”

Armie slides his arm around Tim’s shoulders and swallows audibly, and the latter glances at his face and immediately raises a hand, lays his fingers lightly on his husband’s cheek for just a moment.

“Yeah, that one.”Armie’s throat clears, and he turns to me, eyes deep and full.“That’s us.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this! Conan O'Brien's air quotes will forever be one of my very favorite things...
> 
> My birthday is in one week, so I hope you're all willing to come back and celebrate a new work with me--stay tuned! :)


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